


A Quality Suit

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Miss Fisher's Whumptober Challenge, Peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 18:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: What struck Jack later was how completely ordinary the box was. Plain brown, simple block lettering, delivered to his desk via intradepartmental mail and placed in the inbox beside his computer. Just like a hundred other packages he’d received at work over the years. And because it was so ordinary, he very nearly ignored it, very nearly left it unopened while he went about his day.But today, for some reason, he didn’t. Today, he took the time to open it, read the letter, examine the contents.And that’s when everything changed.A modern AU addition to MFMM's Whumptober Fanfic Challenge.





	A Quality Suit

**Author's Note:**

> My third contribution to the MFMM's Whumptober Fanfic Challenge.
> 
> The prompt for this story is “Asphyxiation.”
> 
> Many, many thanks to Fire_Sign for the beta read and Sarahtoo for the accidental beta read! :-D

What struck Jack later was how completely ordinary the box was. Plain brown, simple block lettering, delivered to his desk via intradepartmental mail and placed in the inbox beside his computer. Just like a hundred other packages he’d received at work over the years. And because it was so ordinary, he very nearly ignored it, very nearly left it unopened while he went about his day. While he called to see if a warrant had come through, went over every “i” and “t” in the Walker case to make sure they were dotted and crossed to his exacting satisfaction, took a long overdue tea break, maybe even lunch.

But today, for some reason, he didn’t. Today, he took the time to open it, read the letter, examine the contents.

And that’s when everything changed.

\---------------------

Jack read the note three times before the words sank in. Then he immediately tried to contact Phryne, and, after that failed, he tried not to panic. He took 10 deep breaths, the way the army medic had taught him, and when that failed as well he stalked to his door and looked out at the common area. He knew the odds were long, but his eyes still swept the expanse searching for any unfamiliar faces. He didn’t spot any, but he did spy his sergeant and his sergeant’s wife standing beside the former’s desk. Jack unclenched his jaw just enough to call out to them.

“Collins! Dot! Could you join me in my office for a moment?”

From his spot across the room, the affable man nodded and began to amble slowly to Jack’s office, Jack hating each relaxed step he took. Hugh didn’t know of course, _couldn’t_ know, but Jack had no space in his head for that kind of rational thinking at the moment, and all he cared about were the precious seconds Hugh’s easy saunter were costing them.

To distract himself as he waited, Jack moved back behind his desk and pulled out a box from his top right drawer, which, out of habit, he began to spin in his hand. Usually the rhythmic motion was calming; today it made him slightly nauseous. As the Collinses entered his office, Jack shoved the box back in the drawer and tried to look more composed than he felt.

“Thank you for coming in. Mrs Collins, have you seen Miss Fisher this morning?”

Phryne’s personal assistant seemed confused by the question, but gamely answered anyway. “Um, no, Inspector. I called her this morning to find out when she needed me - we were planning to get evidence of Councilman Wilson accepting bribes this afternoon - but there was no answer at her home or on her mobile.”

“And you didn’t find that odd?” Jack asked. “Given that you had plans to meet her.”

“No, I just assumed — ” Dot stopped speaking suddenly, blushed, and avoided Jack’s gaze.

“You just assumed what?” Jack demanded, far more forcefully than he normally would, which explained why Hugh swayed slightly towards his young wife in subconscious defence.

“I assumed she was with you,” Dot explained quietly.

“With me? Why would you — ” Jack smiled ruefully. “Ah.” He sank down into his seat and ran a hand over his face. “How long have you known?”

“Just a few months. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean — ”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” Hugh interjected in a tone that was part friendly, part warning. “And I think maybe you should stop grilling my wife now.”

“I apologize, Hugh, Dot, I just…” Jack sighed and picked up the letter on his desk. “We thought with all the attention this case has received, we should be discreet until after the trial. But I suppose if everyone knows, that explains why they took her and not me - I’m the one with high enough clearance to get what they want.” 

He handed Dot the letter, which Hugh also read over her shoulder.

> INSPECTOR ROBINSON,
> 
> IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR LADY DETECTIVE AGAIN, DESTROY ALL PHYSICAL EVIDENCE IN THE WALKER CASE BY NOON.
> 
> SEND VIDEO PROOF THAT IT’S DONE TO THE NUMBER BELOW AND WE WILL SEND YOU HER LOCATION. 
> 
> OTHERWISE YOU GET NOTHING BUT A HEAD START ON HER BURIAL.

Dot and Hugh looked up with twin horrified expressions.

“Is this true?” Dot asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack told her. “I tried her mobile and the house and I tried,” he nodded at the walkie talkie that had been included in the package with the letter, “that thing. No answer on any of them.”

“What do you think they mean by head start?” Hugh asked, his eyes back on the letter.

“I don’t _know_. I don’t know anything except that I have just under an hour until that deadline and no idea where Phryne is.”

Hugh nodded, then walked over to Jack’s door. He opened it and called out to one of the other officers. “Constable Martin! Send a car over to Phryne Fisher’s residence and have them report back, and do it as fast as humanly possible!”

“Yes, sir!” called an unseen voice.

Hugh nodded then shut the door. “Ian Walker?” he asked Jack quietly.

“I assume so,” Jack replied. “The man is exacting and careful as hell - we took down every other member of the Walker family, but we couldn't get him on anything more than a failed zoning ordinance. But he’s still fiercely loyal to them. It’s _got_ to be him. And if it is...”

For his own good, Jack left his thought unfinished. Ian Walker was a charming, meticulous, vengeful psychopath who blamed him, Phryne, and their joint investigation for his family’s downfall. If he had Phryne, there was really no telling how this situation would end.

Or, rather there was, but Jack couldn’t think about that now.

In the corner, Dot was frantically calling Phryne’s numbers again and, like Jack, receiving no answer. For several long moments the room was silent except for the quiet tapping of Jack’s fingers on the desk as he mulled over the few things he did know. Suddenly that rhythm was joined by a louder, quicker one on the door. Hugh opened it to find Constable Martin outside, looking extremely anxious.

“You got a report back already?” Hugh asked in surprise.

“There was already an officer there,” Martin explained. “A neighbor called in an altercation she witnessed outside Miss Fisher’s residence about 45 minutes ago.”

“Did they find anything?” Jack demanded, standing upright and leaning forward onto the desk.

The Constable’s anxiety visibly increased. “Signs of a struggle, sir. At the entrance. And no one home. They’re processing the scene now.”

Jack nodded tersely. “Keep me updated, Constable. That will be all.” Martin returned the nod, then closed the door behind him.

Jack once again took 10 deep breaths, then hurled a stapler at the wall. Dot flinched, but said nothing. Hugh merely picked up the stapler and returned the damaged office equipment to Jack’s desk.

“Sir?’ he asked quietly. “Are you considering…?”

“Am I considering destroying the most damning evidence we collected in a twelve month investigation into the worst drug ring this city has seen in a century?” He looked up, his eyes cold as they met Hugh’s. “Do you really want the answer to that question, Sergeant? Because you can’t unhear it.”

“I’m not likely to judge you, sir.” Hugh shot a quick glance to Dot. “But I feel I should also point out — ”

“That he’ll probably kill her no matter what I do? I know. It’s about the only thing I _do_ know. God, I wish — ”

_I wish Phryne were here_, he thought. _I wish I had my partner._ Jack closed his eyes and once again calculated the time it would take to get to the evidence lockup and destroy both the damning proof against the Walkers and his career. Would he? If he thought it would actually save Phryne… would he? He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that question either. Jack clenched his fists until they hurt, considered punching the wall just to end the screaming in his head and the heavy silence in the room.

A silence that was suddenly broken. 

There was a crackle, then a small voice. “Hello?”

Jack lunged past Hugh to the walkie talkie on the desk. He picked it up and pressed the small button on the side. “Phryne? Phryne is that you?”

“Jack?”

“Yes! Yes, love, it’s me!”

“Jack! Oh thank god, I… I don’t know where I am.” She sounded… strange. Lost in a way that was completely unlike her; Phryne often wandered, but she was never lost.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice and almost certainly failing.

“I’m… I think I’m in some kind of box? I’m lying down and my head hurts and it's dark. It’s so dark, Jack, I can’t see anything.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I went to the corner cafe like I do every morning, got a latte and a scone, but when I got home… Jack, I think maybe they put something in the milk or… there was a man, then everything got very fuzzy, very fast. That’s the last thing I remember; I just woke up a moment ago, found myself in this box with a walkie talkie in my hand.”

“Do you have your phone with you? If you do, we can track the GPS.”

“I don’t think so. I can’t feel it in any of my pockets and anyway I think I dropped it this morning during the… Jack, I don’t know where I am.”

Jack winced at the repeated words, but he forced himself to sound as calm as possible.

“That’s ok. That’s ok, Phryne, we’re going to find you. Hugh and Dot are here with me. We’re going to find you and we’re going to get you out of there.”

“That would be lovely, Jack, thank you. Just… just don’t take too long, alright? I waited long enough for you to pick me up the first time.”

Despite himself, Jack smiled. “A mistake I won’t repeat, Phryne, I promise.” He paused a moment. “What can you tell me about the box?”

There was silence from her end for several long moments during which time Jack could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. Then she returned.

“It’s metal. About 80 by 200cm if my guesstimates are accurate, and appears to be airtight. There’s also a lock I can feel that connects to the outside. But Jack… I can’t see _anything_. It really is impossibly dark in here.”

For the first time since the walkie came to life, Hugh moved, stepping over and placing a hand gently over the unit, causing Jack to release the button.

“Sir,” he began quietly, even though the line wasn’t open, “the letter says a ‘head start on her burial’. Do you think… do you think she’s underground?” 

Jack sucked in a breath. The Walkers _were_ exceptionally cruel, and burying someone alive...

“Yes,” he replied, matching Hugh’s tone. “I now think that’s very likely the case.”

“Well if the signal is getting through she can’t be that deep,” Hugh reasoned. “That’s good.”

“Sergeant, you and I have very different definitions of ‘good’.” Jack closed his eyes then pressed the button again. “Phryne? Phryne, love, we think you might be underground somewhere.”

Silence from her end.

“Did you hear me, Phryne?” 

“I heard you. I can’t say I’m thrilled with the news…”

Jack nodded before remembering she couldn’t see him.

“We’ll figure this out, Phryne.”

Jack moved over to the window, resisting the urge to squeeze the walkie in frustration lest it break; it was his only line to Phryne and he couldn’t let his fear take over.

He placed his forehead against the cool glass and tried to think. If Phryne was here, if the positions were reversed, she’d already be out the door. That was what Phryne did - she rushed in and figured it out as she went. She was the best investigator he’d ever met, and the woman he loved with all his heart, but in all honesty they were very different people. 

Phryne made intuitive leaps and followed her instincts. Jack was analytical and followed the evidence. If she were here, she’d prod him into moving, convince him to follow her out on a hunch. Or, if that failed, she’d just dash out herself and find some clue to bust the whole thing wide open, while Jack stayed behind and did the slow and steady work of a Detective Inspector.

An idle, horrible thought went through his mind: if she died, she would be so disappointed in him first.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut against the idea. No. No, Phryne loved him, and before she’d loved him, she’d respected him. Respected the way he worked, the investigator he was. Jack was methodical and rational and patient. 

And, since right now the job of getting her back fell to him, he would have to do it his own way.

He lifted his head from the window pane and turned back to the room. Dot was trying Phryne’s numbers again, while Hugh stood at attention, awaiting orders. 

Good man.

“I need two spare laptops in here, Collins. Go beg, borrow or steal them from whoever you can out there. And get a trace started on Miss Fisher’s phone, just in case.”

“Yes, sir.” Hugh was out the door before he finished his sentence.

“Do you really think she’s been buried alive, Inspector?” Dot asked, quietly.

Jack swallowed, hard. “I do, Mrs Collins.”

“How much air do you think she has left?”

Jack had, horribly, already done the math in his head. “If her measurements of the box are correct, and she went in shortly after they took her… another half an hour, give or take? If she doesn't panic and use up the oxygen faster."

“Then half an hour,” Dot said confidently. Suddenly far more resolute, she turned on her heels and left the room before Jack could ask her where she was going.

Jack watched her leave in confusion for a moment, but a crackle from the walkie immediately stole his attention back.

“Hello?” she asked again. “Jack?”

“I’m here! I’m here, Phryne.” Hugh rushed back into the room, a laptop under each arm. “Phryne, can you tell us anything about where you are?”

“Jack, I told you, I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but do you hear anything? Smell anything? We’re going to bring you home, love, but we need you to help us.”

“Alright, I’ll… try.”

The line went quiet again, time Jack used to set up the two spare computers on his desk next to his own. On one he pulled up a map of Melbourne - placing one pin at the site of Phryne’s abduction and one pin at the station - and on the other he pulled up the live feed from the police dispatch, just in case.

“Hugh, run an internet search on this brand and model of walkie talkie.” Jack showed him the device in his hand. “Find out the range, I want to see the area we’re working with here.”

Hugh nodded and went to work as the line crackled back to life.

“Jack? Jack, I think the box might be used to store something flammable; there’s a faint propane smell in the air. And I hear… some kind of machinery. Maybe a factory or something? It’s rhythmic, whatever it is.”

“Ok, that’s good. That’s great, Phryne.”

Hugh looked up from his computer. “Six and a half kilometers, sir. And it’s one of the newer models, so both lines can be open at the same time.”

Jack looked back at his map and ran a hand over his face. Six and a half kilometers in any direction... that was a lot of ground to cover. He needed more information.

As if in answer to his prayers, Constable Martin appeared back at the door. “Sir? They’re still processing the scene, but I thought you should know, a witness saw a ute peel out from Miss Fisher’s residence and head north. We’re looking for traffic cameras that might help now.”

“Good! Good, keep me updated, Constable. Any information, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Oh!” Jack stopped the young man before he could leave and quickly jotted down the phone number from the kidnapper’s note. “Run a trace on this number - any information at all you can get.”

It was a testament to the loyalty of his people that Constable Martin merely nodded quickly and moved back outside - no one even thought to question what their DI was doing, they just wanted to help.

“Alright,” Jack muttered, more to himself than anyone else. As he did, he absently rubbed his breastbone; his chest ached in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time and he felt utterly winded. “Alright, if they were headed north,” he ran his finger up the map from St. Kilda north and towards his station, “I think we can discount west and south of here. She won’t be buried in the bay and there are more direct routes if they wanted to go somewhere in that vicinity anyway.”

Hugh looked over his shoulder at the map. “Not a lot of factories in downtown Melbourne, sir.”

“No… no there are not.” Jack pressed the button again. “Phryne? Phryne can you tell us anything else?”

“No. No, I don’t think so. Except… I might be imagining this, but I feel like I’m shaking.”

“Shaking?”

“Like the ground is vibrating? I can’t be sure. It’s… it’s cold, so it might just be me.”

Jack clenched his jaw, but there was nothing to be done for it so he moved on.

“Ok. Ok, Phryne, we’re working on this. If _anything_ else comes to mind, you let me know.”

“Copy that, Inspector. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” And the line went quiet again.

Jack studied the map once more. “Vibrations…. Alright, what do we know? Phryne was taken in broad daylight and moved to a secondary location for,” he hesitated minutely, but Hugh had the decency to pretend not to notice, “burial.”

Hugh frowned. “It’s not easy to bury a person, sir. And they wouldn’t want to take their time with something like that.”

“No, no they wouldn't. They wouldn’t want to do it by hand either. They’d want… equipment.”

“Equipment that wouldn’t be flagged as odd by a passerby,” Hugh pointed out.

“Yes! Yes, they need equipment that _should be_ in the place they’re using it. So where do you dig?”

“A cemetery?” Hugh suggested, then winced.

“Yes, but that doesn’t account for the vibrations.” Jack tapped his fingers on the desk again, then picked up the walkie.

“Phryne? Phryne are the vibrations random or is there a pattern?” No answer. “Phryne? Phryne!”

A crackle. 

“Sorry, Jack, I’m trying to get out of my suit jacket. I’m hoping that I can wrap the sleeve around the lock and twist it off.”

“With a jacket sleeve?”

“Well it’s a quality suit, Jack.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, Phryne,” Jack replied, frowning as he did. The words sounded like Phryne, but there was a tone in her voice that worried him above and beyond the mild panic that had been lapping at the shore of his mind ever since he opened the box. “Which suit?” he asked, trying to distract her.

“The gray pinstripe. It’s mostly professional, but it has that peak of pink in the lining you like because it matches my — ”

“Yes, I recall, thank you.”

Hugh, bless him, averted his eyes.

Phryne continued. “You know my favorite designer is always telling me what a sensible choice an outfit like this is. She says you can be married or buried in a quality suit. And you know me, Jack - this was by far the more likely of the two.” Then she let out a sort of high pitched giggle that was anything but joyful.

She was trying to sound cheerful but he could hear the real fear beneath the lightness in her voice. Because as far as everybody else was concerned, except for spiders, Phryne didn’t have any phobias. But unlike everybody else, Jack knew how her father had punished her as a child.

And trapped once again in a small, dark space, Phryne was starting to lose it.

Jack took his thumb off the button and turned to address his sergeant. “Hugh, could you give us just a moment? Grab the file on the Walker family assets, I have an idea.”

Hugh nodded and quietly slipped out the door, closing it behind him.

“Phryne? It’s just me right now, ok? There’s no one else in the room.”

There was a pause. “A lot of trouble to get me alone, Inspector.”

Her tone wasn’t even surface level flirtatious anymore - she just sounded scared.

“We’re going to find you, love, you know that right?”

Another pause. 

“Jack,” she finally whispered, “if you really believed that, you wouldn’t be calling me ‘love’.”

Her words felt like a direct hit. If Ian Walker himself had walked in at that moment and punched him in the stomach he would have had an easier time breathing. He squeezed his eyes tight and forced back the tears that were threatening to spill. She didn’t need his fear too. 

“I’m calling you ‘love’ because for once you can’t run away when I do so.” A choked laugh from her, but her breathing was still so fast; in response he forced his to slow down. 

“Phryne.” His voice was steady and low and as calm as he could manage. He pulled out the box from his drawer again and gripped it like a talisman. “Phryne, listen to me; take a deep breath in, then let it out.” There was silence from her end so he continued.

“It’s just me,” he repeated, “and I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Phryne. So take a deep breath in, then let it out.” There was silence again and then he heard her inhale, then exhale over the radio. He started turning the box over and over in his hand in time with her breathing. “Perfect. Now do it again, love. Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

For more heartbeats than he could count Jack just listened to her breathe. When she sounded mostly in control again, he spoke to her softly.

“I’ve got you, Phryne. You’re not alone.”

“I know. Thank you, darling.” Another pause. “Jack, do you think this was Ian Walker?”

“I do.”

“And I… I assume you were given an ultimatum for my location.”

Jack was quiet for a moment. “I was,” he finally confirmed.

“Did you consider it?” she asked.

“I did,” he admitted. “I am.”

“Well stop. We both know what will happen if you do. It doesn’t end well for either of us.”

“Phryne — ”

“No. You’re not alone either, Jack. We make this decision together, ok? And my vote is you don’t give that bastard a damn thing.” 

In spite of himself, Jack smiled. “Yes ma'am.”

“It’s ‘miss’,” she reminded him and his heart ached at the familiarity of it. “So what’s our next move?”

And Jack smiled again at the “our.”

“I have a theory.” Jack put the box away and walked over to his door. He yanked it open to find Hugh’s hand raised and about to knock. “Excellent timing, Collins.” He pulled the file from Hugh’s hands and started rifling through it.

“Phryne, when you were investigating the Walkers’ legitimate fronts, did Ian run any of them himself?”

“Yes, he oversaw their construction businesses. He was very hands on as I… oh, Jack. I’m under a construction site!”

“Yes, that’s my thought as well. It would explain everything we know so far. The problem is that there are,” Jack began counting the forms in front of him, “seven options in the probable radius we’ve identified.”

“I think you can discount any that list Jonas Henderson as a development partner. He’s a mostly honest man who doesn’t want to be in bed with the Walkers anymore. He would sell Ian out in a heartbeat if he had evidence - I don’t imagine Ian would risk it.”

Jack and Hugh placed those files to the side. “Ok, that leaves four.”

“Are any of them part of the St. Vincent’s Hospital expansion?”

Hugh double checked. “One, Miss.”

“You can exclude that too. They ran out of funding and paused the project last month - my aunt is furious.”

“Your aunt is always furious,” Jack muttered. “Alright, that leaves three.” He looked up at the clock. 15 minutes until his deadline. “Is there anything else, Phryne? Anything at all?”

“No, I… wait, isn’t there a site near the Samuels Women’s Clinic?”

Jack looked over the papers. “Yes! Yes, there’s one right across the street.”

“It won’t be that one. A group of women have been… creatively protesting the Clinic’s closing for weeks. There are always cameras there now and Walker wouldn’t take the risk.”

“And I assume you’re one of the creative protesters?” There was silence again from her end and for once Jack didn’t worry it was the connection.

“Ok, your motley hobbies aside, this is brilliant, Phryne. There’s only two left and they’re both in the same general area.” Jack picked up the walkie talkie and one of the laptops and turned towards the door. “Let’s move.” He made it three steps before Dot appeared in front of them, her small hands holding an extremely large bag. She hefted it up and handed it to Hugh.

“Shovels,” she said simply. “I figured if she was underground, you would need them. So I borrowed these from the station’s landscaping shed.” Jack stared at her for a moment, and Dot twisted her now free hands uncomfortably. “I left a note!” she insisted.

Jack just shook his head, leaned down, and, to her complete surprise, placed a kiss on her forehead. “Good thinking, Dot. Thank you.” He turned back to his sergeant. “Let’s go, Hugh.”

“I’m coming with you,” Dot told them. Hugh opened his mouth to argue, but Dot threw him a quelling look and he closed it immediately.

The three of them made their way to Jack’s vehicle, but when he went to open the driver’s door, Hugh held out his hand for the keys.

“Collins?” Jack asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“I’ll drive, sir. You stay on the line.”

Jack nodded and handed him the keys. “I probably don’t need to tell you this, but drive like Miss Fisher, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack threw the shovels in the boot and climbed in the passenger seat, Dot in the back. He handed her the laptop, which still had the map pulled up, and as they peeled out from the station, Jack pushed down the button to contact Phryne.

“Phryne? We’re on our way. How are you?”

“Jack? Jack, it’s getting a little… I think you better hurry.”

“We’re on our way, love. Just hang on a little longer.”

True to his word, Hugh drove like no one was watching, until they were very near the first location.

“Sir,” Hugh said quietly. “I don’t think we have time to search both sites.”

“I know,” he choked out. “Phryne? Phryne, we’re close to the first site. Is there anything else, anything at all?”

“...bells.” She was so quiet he could hardly hear her.

“Bells?”

“I think… I think I hear… church bells.”

Jack turned to Dot. “Is either site near a church?”

Dot scanned the map. “They both are.”

“Damn!” Jack slammed his fist on the dashboard.

“Phryne!” Dot yelled from the back. When Jack turned, she grabbed the walkie out of his hand. “Phryne, listen to me! The bells - do the bells sound like a scale going up and down or are they just one note?”

There was silence for a moment, then a very faint voice replied. “Scales.”

Dot handed the walkie back to Jack. “She’s at the site next to St. Patrick’s!”

Hugh pulled a hard right and changed course.

“We’re almost there, Phryne, stay with me!”

“Jack, I can’t breathe. I think I’m running out of… I can’t _breathe_.”

“Phryne, take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can. You keep doing that until we find you, ok? We will find you.”

“Need… to… tell you…”

“Phryne Fisher, you save anything you have to tell me for our next nightcap, you hear me? _We will find you!_”

Hugh brought the vehicle to a screeching stop at the construction site and the three of them leapt from the car.

They looked around, frantically searching the site for clues. 

“She won’t be where the main work in happening,” Hugh said. “Too many witnesses, too many questions.”

“Agreed.”

Jack scanned the periphery of the site, not finding anything until, for no reason he could explain, a willow tree off to the side caught his eye. He ran towards it, and up close he could see tyre tracks nearby and some very freshly dug earth.

“Here! She’s here!”

Hugh and Dot ran over with the shovels and the three of them all started digging frantically. A minute later a metal box, slightly larger than a coffin, came into view. Jack slammed his shovel down on the lock and flung the lid open. 

She was there.

But she wasn’t breathing. 

Hugh and Jack pulled her from the box, and laid her out on the grass. Hugh called for an ambulance while Jack put his ear to her chest and, to his immeasurable relief, heard a faint heartbeat.

“Come on, Phryne, come on,” he muttered, leaning in to give her a rescue breath. 

When he pulled back up, her eyes were open and she was looking at him. And she was, ever so faintly, smiling.

Jack choked out a sob and pulled her up, holding her tight. A moment later he felt her hold him back just as tightly and, for the first time since he’d opened that very ordinary looking box, Jack could breathe.

\---------------------

The paramedics checked Phryne out at the scene, then loaded her into the ambulance for further tests at the hospital. It was a testament to the intensity of the ordeal that she didn’t argue the point. She did, however, pull Dot aside and talk to the young woman in low tones as she was being strapped in.

Jack looked over to see Phryne on the gurney, his stomach still knotted with worry even if the immediate danger was over. He grabbed Hugh, gave the younger man the walkie talkies and some orders, then made his way to the ambulance. 

Dot was leaving just as he arrived. 

“She’s fine, Inspector,” Dot whispered, gently clasping his arm as she passed, and the boundary crossing from Dot of all people made Jack realize what a mess he must have been while Phryne was missing. He nodded at the younger woman, then climbed into the ambulance and took Phryne’s hand.

“Do you mind if I ride with you?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said. “Besides, I’ve grown quite used to your voice in my ear.”

“Not tired of it yet?” he teased.

“Never,” she told him, squeezing Jack’s hand.

He squeezed hers back, and as they rode together to the hospital, neither let go.

\---------------------

Phryne was released a few hours later with a clean bill of health, as well as a healthy desire for retribution.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Jack asked as they exited his car and walked into the police station.

Rather than answer, she just shot him a look that would fully fell a lesser man, and it was so quintessentially _Phryne_ that Jack finally felt the last knot unravel. 

“I stand corrected,” he told her with a smile, opening the door to the station for her to enter.

They made their way through the lobby and into the restricted area of the building, down one corridor after another until they finally found themselves in the interrogation suite, on the other side of two way glass from Ian Walker and his attorney.

Hugh and Dot were already there waiting for them, and, in turn, each handed their respective boss an item: Jack a file folder and Phryne a tablet. As she passed it over, Dot nodded and Phryne smiled. Jack raised his eyebrows at the exchange, but Phryne only shrugged. 

“You’ll like it, Jack, I promise.”

Looking at the file folder, and the information it contained, Jack decided he didn’t need to press her on it. Not today.

They entered the interrogation room together, Phryne taking a seat at the table and Jack positioned behind her, casually leaning against the wall as Hugh hovered silently by the door.

“G’day Ian,” Jack said. “Thank you for coming down.”

“Your officers didn’t make it seem like I had much of a choice,” the man sniffed, his suit and diction both impeccable. “It’s rather a waste of your time though, Inspector. I have no more information on my family’s allegedly illegal activities than I did three months ago and I don’t think I’ll be saying much today in any case.” Jack had to hand it to him, the man had been hard to pin down for a reason. He was good. Then he caught Phryne’s eye and remembered: Ian Walker _was_ good.

But they were better.

Phryne smiled at the man across from her, an expression of such unadulterated menace that Walker shifted in his seat at the sight. “Oh, that’s alright, Ian,” she began, picking up the thread of the conversation. “I’m sure I can do the talking for both of us. You see, Inspector Robinson and I have a story to tell. A story about a family of drug smugglers who took this city by storm two years ago, racking up an impressive, if also nauseating, number of crimes in that time - drug offenses, money laundering, bribery, violent crimes, murder. Just to name a few.” Walker said nothing, just raised an eyebrow at her. Phryne continued undeterred.

“But the diligent officer in charge,” Phryne shot Jack a quick look, “worked tirelessly, and after some time the lot were all rounded up on a variety of offences, almost certain to never see another day of freedom again. All but one, that is.”

From his place behind her, Jack took up the tale. “The favorite son, who headed up their supposedly legitimate business interests and who was so notoriously careful that the police could never make any of the charges against him stick.”

“Sounds clever,” Walker said, all arrogance and false charm.

“Oh he is,” Jack agreed. “Very clever. He also managed to avoid the trap the rest of his family fell into by doing everything himself - no lackeys to testify against you if you don’t have lackeys to begin with.”

“Of course it’s hard to kidnap a woman and bury her underground all by yourself,” Phryne interjected, casually turning on her tablet as she did.

“I would think so,” Walker agreed. “Though I would never be part of such a… traumatizing event.” He leaned forward, getting as close to Phryne as the table would allow. “I imagine something like that might scar a person for life. Replaying it over and over in her mind… how horrid.”

Phryne looked up and met his eye, neither her gaze nor her poise wavering for a moment. “It’s funny you should phrase it that way,” she noted, propping up the tablet and facing it towards Walker. “Because if, for example, the woman in question was a private investigator, and if she had been planning a sting operation of her own that day, then perhaps, just perhaps, she wouldn’t need to replay it in her mind. Perhaps she could just replay it on this.”

Phryne tapped a button on the tablet and suddenly the screen was filled with Phryne’s front door, then it became shaky and a cup of coffee fell to the ground. A man’s face came into view and Jack realized with a start he was witnessing Phryne’s abduction. The camera jostled hard - if Jack had to guess he would say Phryne had just elbowed the man in the solar plexus - and then calmed as, he assumed, she lost consciousness altogether. Jack did an admirable job of not letting his feelings show, though, years of practice keeping his expression neutral in the interrogation room. Watching the screen he recognized the man as Walker’s head of security. Then the screen swung back to the truck and, plainly visible in the driver’s seat, was Ian Walker.

Phryne flicked her eyes to the screen. “Button cam. Incredibly useful in my line of work. And, it appears, in bringing down incredibly clever, incredibly careful thugs.”

Walker shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, his eyes glued to the tablet. On the screen, Walker disappeared as the frame moved upward towards the sky.

Walker’s lawyer cleared his throat. “I think we’ve seen enough.”

“Indeed,” Walker said, the bravado in his voice only slightly false. “From what I can see, someone who looks a bit like me was very unfortunately parked near whatever it was we just saw.” He shrugged. “Circumstantial at best, and I pay him,” he nodded towards his lawyer, “rather a lot of money to believe in coincidences.”

“We’re done here,” the lawyer concluded as he stood.

“Just one more thing,” Jack said, pushing off the wall and coming over to the table, his eyes on the report in front of him. The lawyer reluctantly sat back down. “The kidnapper sent me a walkie talkie with the note.” Jack held his hand out and Hugh handed him an evidence bag. “What do you think about fingerprints? Still circumstantial?”

Walker grinned at him, actually _grinned_. “Inspector, if this person is as careful as you say, then surely they wore gloves when they sent you this package. I mean, if it were me, I would have. Hypothetically, of course.”

Jack turned his mouth down in an expression of reluctant agreement. “Of course. Just curious though… do you think they were clever enough to do it when they put in the batteries?” Jack tossed the bag on the table. “Hypothetically, of course.”

The smug smile fell from Ian Walker’s face like rainwater off a rooftop. 

“I thought not. At least, that’s what this report says. And combined with that very damning video, I believe we have more than enough evidence to make the charges stick this time. Sergeant? Please book Mr Walker here for kidnapping, extortion, interfering with a police investigation and attempted murder.” 

“Gladly, sir.” Hugh stepped forward and hauled Walker to his feet as Jack held out his arm for Phryne, who took it and stood up herself. Without a look back at Walker, they left the room and returned to Jack’s office.

As Jack opened the door, he looked at Phryne, recognized the mask she was wearing as one he had often worn himself over the years.

“It’s over,” he reminded her quietly as they passed inside and he closed the door behind them.

“Of course,” she said, mask still firmly in place.

“And I’ve still got you,” he whispered. The mask wavered, and so Jack took a chance. He held out his hands, and, when she moved toward him, quietly wrapped her in his arms. Then he gently held her as they both allowed themselves to finally, finally cry.

\---------------------

Fifteen minutes later, Phryne sat across the table from Jack, the catharsis complete and a genuine smile on her face as he poured her a whisky from the bottle he kept in his desk.

Putting the bottle away, Jack still watched her carefully. “Are you alright?” he asked softly. “Really alright?”

“I am,” she assured him. “Not… not unaffected, certainly. But not panicking anymore either.” She gave him a wry smile. “Something new to talk to my therapist about anyway; I’m sure she’s getting tired of hearing about how good the sex is with you.”

Jack snorted. “Well I’m never tired of hearing it, so if she doesn’t want to listen, feel free to start sharing that with me.”

Phryne laughed and the sound was the best goddamn thing Jack had ever heard.

“So….” he began after a moment, “a button cam?”

“Mmmmm. I told you, Jack, it really is a quality suit.”

Jack smiled at her and nodded, then reached into the back of his top right drawer. “Speaking of which… I’m not going to ask you to marry me.”

Phryne’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is this your way of cheering me up?”

“I’m not going to ask you to marry me today,” Jack continued, undeterred. “This was a traumatic event and one should never make a big life decision after a traumatic event. However...” 

He pulled a box out of the desk and put it on the table. “I also need you to know that when I do, it wasn’t _because_ of today. It’s because of every day. With you. Because every day with you is a gift, Phryne. And I need you to know this has been, and will be, here, waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.”

Phryne eyed the ring box with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. “So you’ve had that for a while then?”

“A little while. Not so long as to send you into a commitment-phobic panic, but I definitely had it before today.”

“I see. Establishing the chain of evidence?” she asked with a smirk.

“Something like that.” Jack put the box away again and reached over to take her hand. “So, maybe, keep that quality suit, love. I hear it has multiple uses.”

“Mmmm. That’s not all I’m planning to keep, Inspector” she told him coyly, coming around the desk to sit in his lap. She looked him in the eye and moved her fingers up to gently stroke his cheek. “I’ve got you too, Jack.” 

He nodded and leaned into her palm, it’s warmth like a balm to his soul. Then she kissed him, no mask in sight, holding nothing back. She kissed him breathless and then she kissed him some more.

So really, Jack realized, nothing had changed. And everything had. And either way he had another day with Phryne. 

Which was a gift.

**Author's Note:**

> A ute in Australia and New Zealand is what the rest of the world calls a pickup truck. Consider this story your incredibly specific, pretty much useless, Rosetta Stone.


End file.
